King of the House
by Ludella
Summary: Really, Sinbad was a much better father than he was made out to be. Somebody needed to make sure Ja'far's parenting stayed in line, after all.


Sinbad had always heard the horror stories from coworkers and reading online. When you had kids, any sense of peace or anything you ever enjoyed before had to be put on hold, like it or not. Messes were everywhere, drama if there were multiple children, fighting and whining, twisting and turning schedules to revolve around them, throwing away the idea of any money that didn't go to them—why, once you had children, you had no life of your own!

And yet somehow, it was different for was the change, oh, for sure-nothing was hardly the same as before. But many of the negatives and restraints and sacrifices didn't seem so terrible when they really got down to it. Life simply went on.

"Have you already finished making lunches?" Ja'far called from the living room where he was kneeling to help stuff their youngest child's backpack. In the kitchen, Sinbad set the last bag down triumphantly and smiled to himself with pride since, well, cooking had never been his forte. Though as said before, everything seemed to change when the number of tenants in your house suddenly grew, and it was one thing he could learn how to do and one thing Ja'far didn't have to do.

He left the packed food on the counter and moved to the other room where all but one kid was gathered, cheering, "Done and done!" Ja'far smiled up at him with a silent "thank you" as he stood, having also finished.

Aladdin, the first they had adopted, ran out of the room as his father entered, dashing to peer up the staircase as every morning called for him to do. "Alibaba!" he shouted, shaking the railing leading to the bathroom directly upstairs. "We're leaving soon, are you done yet?"

"Not yet!" came the muffled response over running water. Aladdin huffed with half a mind to go up there himself.

"That boy's developed quite the obsession with his appearance lately, hasn't he?" Ja'far sighed while exchanging a glance with his husband. Alibaba, their oldest, had made a ritual of spending far too much time in the bathroom each morning, no matter how early they tried to wake him so that they would be able to leave on time.

'A man's most charming quality is his smile—and with that, his looks!' Sinbad had told him a while ago when asked advice on picking up girls (why he would ask his father, married to a man, Ja'far could never figure out). Of course, with the level of respect and idolization Alibaba held for him even now, it wasn't any wonder he took it so to heart.

"I'm going to prepare my things for work, you help Morgiana," Ja'far decided and gestured to the daughter who'd remained silent all this time across the room. She stood in front of a smaller drawstring bag with heaps of clothes and equipment tumbling out, needing somebody else to help her pack as last time—well, Sinbad was surprised that such a durable material could tear that easily.

With a nod, Sinbad skipped over to Morgiana to help, grinning at her the whole time to try and coax an expression out of her. "Today's the day, isn't it!" he laughed in a sing-song voice, though not receiving any reaction for his enthusiasm. "Football tryouts! You know, your dad was on the football team a hundred years ago, too! You should give me a list of your games so papa and I can attend."

Morgiana shook her head. "Cheerleading. Today's cheerleading tryouts."

Somehow football had made more sense.

He opened his mouth to speak, for some kind of apology and damn his daughter was a girl, to have mistaken her for her strength and more masculine hobbies _again_...

"However…" she began before him, sheepishly lowering her head with a small tint of pink on her cheeks. "Would you and papa still come to the games…?"

Sinbad pitied Ja'far for not being there to witness their daughter now. "Of course! Of course dad and papa will still come—you bet!" he assured her, finishing packing and standing to ruffle her hair. Morgiana smiled and nodded at the agreement as she picked up her bag.

"I'm done, I'm done, I'm here!" Alibaba all but yelled as he burst out the door and trampled the worn carpet on the floor, bounding his way downstairs. Aladdin scolded him that it was exactly time to leave, needing to hurry in order to even reach the bus on time where he was only hit on the head in response. Hearing them, Morgiana also began to hurry, slinging both bags over her shoulder and taking off to grab something upstairs.

Kids running all about the house to gather their things, Sinbad struggled not to step on one as he tried to move. "Ah, wait! Lunches, lunches dad worked _so_ hard to make this morning!" His hard work was _not_ going to waste on these children. He quickly scuttled over to the kitchen, grabbing the closest bag, happening to be Aladdin's, and—

Did he… put that much in there? His arm was weighed down by the sack, and even looking at it, it seemed to bulge a bit at the top… Curious, he opened the top zipper to double check he'd put everything in correctly, and… "_Ja'far_!"

"No time to bicker, dad!" Alibaba hardly stayed in the kitchen for a second, snatching his lunch bag before zooming off right again. Morgiana followed just as quick. only a flash of pink hair and a blue uniform and she was gone along with the red lunch bag on the counter. A cold breeze came in through the now open front door where the elder two had already left, signaling the youngest to now run faster as he yanked his own meal from his father.

"You two, wait for me!" Sinbad knew Morgiana would, of course, let her little brother catch up, but it was up to them then to try and reach Alibaba…

Just like that, the previously hectic house was silent again, with footprints and three other table mats the only sign children had ever been in the house at all. Soon the only other two remaining would be gone as well to their own jobs, leaving the home in a peaceful, undisturbed quiet before everything broke loose again when they all arrived home at the same time (Sinbad sometimes a little later than the rest, being so needed at his work and all).

It was true what they said about everything changing as soon as the family expanded. Even so, they never got to go through the entire nine month pregnancy and birth and sometimes Sinbad _thanked whatever god there was_ that Ja'far was a man for that reason alone, but they still had just about the same case of family hastiness and troubles.

Maybe they had a little more at the beginning trying to have the children when they were younger, but still aged when they arrived at their home, with needing to all adapt to each other. There was no immediate bond at birth, no being raised together from the very beginning—they all had to become used to calling them fathers and siblings and, for the most part, Sinbad was rather proud of how things had worked out.

"Sin, we should leave too, soon. I'll go ahead and be in the car, alright?"

And then there was the acquired skill of parenting.

Sinbad gave an elongated sigh, having to lean on the counter in exasperation for his husband. Why, Sinbad considered himself to be quite an awesome parent, the best! Ja'far had brought in tons of books on parenting as soon as they began considering adoption and Sinbad would like to pride himself for having read (skimmed) through (most of) them! And if that wasn't anything, he'd followed through with it, making sure those kids would have the best fucking life a kid ever lived. Likewise, Ja'far made an ideal mother figure! But sometimes…

"Sin? You coming?" Aforementioned mother figure asked, peeking his head into the kitchen from the doorway.

Just _sometimes_…

Sinbad turned to him with a scowl. "Ja'far, about the kids this morning…"

"Well, they just left."

"About their _lunches_ I made this morning."

Immediately, Ja'far frowned, fully walking into the room and all but full blown pouted at his husband. "They're just kids! It's okay if it's only a bit, like that!"

An accusing finger was quickly thrust in his face at the confession. "But you try to sneak sweets and treats into their lunches _every_ day!" Sinbad straightened his back, retrieving his hand to put over his chest righteously. "I worked hard to make good healthy lunches, and _every_ time I do well, you always-!"

"You saw the rush they were in, they didn't even finish breakfast!"

"You gave them each two full plates, of course they couldn't finish it; they had enough!"

Ja'far's shoulders slumped as Sinbad crossed his arms, having reached the same end they do most mornings. It was the primary reason Sinbad had to learn how to prepare their children's food, not needing them to be any more spoiled than they already were.

"I'll go get the car started," Ja'far finally sighed in defeat, turning and leaving the kitchen with Sinbad following after.

"And, you know," he looked over as Sinbad spoke again, finding the other with a more disappointed, borderline pouty expression. "This wouldn't be a problem if you just spoiled _me_, too."

"It'd be against the ratio of how cute someone is to how much they're treated."

"Harsh!"


End file.
